


Letters From the Road

by tryslora



Category: Magic University - Cecilia Tan
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thorne takes off for a year, he's in constant contact with his brother. But email and texting is one thing; letters from the road are something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters From the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eternaleponine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/gifts).



> This is loosely in the MU fandom, in that Thorne and Rory both appeared in short stories in the fanfic anthology associated with the series. They are OCs within the world of the Magic University. The world of MU was created by Cecilia Tan and belongs to her. Thorne is mine and Rory belongs to eternaleponine and Thorne's grateful she doesn't mind me writing about him. This is also a holiday card gift ficlet for eternaleponine.

. 30 September

Rory,

So this is what a tour bus feels like. It feels strange. I’m short, so the bunks aren’t too bad, I guess. I can’t even imagine you in one. I bet your feet would stick out. There’s this bedroom that the lead singer and his girlfriend have taken over. They said it’s because he’s 6’3” and he doesn’t like the bunks. But hey, it also means they have privacy, unlike the rest of us who are trying to wank quietly while stacked like pancakes.

Not really. Well, maybe. The guys tell stories about bringing girls back to the bus. It’s completely different than our van.

Jackson has the bunk right above mine, and Donovan has the one below me. Donovan’s a drum tech—you don’t know him. But you remember Jackson, right? The bouncy guy with the massive collection of guitars. Funny to think that two years ago these guys were where we are now. Maybe this’ll be us in a couple of years?

Anyway. I can hear Jackson breathing, and he doesn’t breathe like you. There’s this funny whistle on the end, and it sounds weird and I can’t get used to it. It’s even weirder than being at college with a roommate. And my feet are still cold, and no one’s sprawled across half the bed pushing me out.

Are you still mad at me? 

I’m still gone for the year, but yeah, halfway to Ohio is a lot further away than Cambridge. But I really just needed some time to sort things out. Veritas was different. It’s never really been my thing, although I liked all the people there. And we were working on _magic_ , which pales next to music, but it’s still fun and important. But there was all this shit going on and I need to figure out what I want to major in, and really, I just needed to get my head clear.

So when Switchblade said they were looking for a bassist, it seemed like a good fit. A little keyboards once in a while, some rhythm guitar, and mostly bass. And keeping my mouth shut, which is weird already. I’m not used to not being the front man.

I miss you. Which probably doesn’t help anything, but it’s true all the same. And hey, at least I had a couple extra weeks at home after summer tour finished up, rather than rushing back to school right away!

By the time you get this, you’ll probably already have responded to the email I sent you today. I know, I know, I’m not the lyricist, but sometimes there are words in my head and I get stuck on them. Three words, a phrase of music. I trust you to turn it into the song that it wants to be. You’re brilliant that way.

Tell Mom and Dad and Dad that I love them.

Love,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 17 October

 

Rory,

It’s weird sending a letter and getting an email back. And you’re right, it’s weird sending you emails and letters at the same time. But the emails are because I can’t not talk to you. And we text, and there’s the phone. But letters are quiet at night and there’s something different about putting pen to paper (even if my scrawl is terrible, sorry about that). It’s almost like talking to you after the lights went out.

It’s funny how much easier it is to be philosophical in print.

Stop laughing. I’m not talking about drunk texting. And yes, thank you so much for emailing Jackson and telling him to take my phone away when we go out. He actually _does_ that. It’s not fair, Rory! I need to keep in touch with my normal life somehow! Besides, it’s nice to remember that fans like _me_ sometimes, and I’m not just faceless and in the background.

I’m not good at this, Rory. I don’t know if I can do it. I still get to goof off on stage. Jackson and I have plenty of chemistry when we get going, but if we do too much, or a spot swings towards us to highlight us, Trick gets pissed off.

Oh, and we have to call him Trick. Not Pat, not Patrick… it’s Trick. Which he thinks is somehow cooler than any of the other options. I think it makes him sound like something a streetwalker picked up, but I don’t—never mind, really, I’m not talking shit about my current bandmates.

He’s an ass, though, Rory. Really, he is. It’s not just some bad boy crap on stage, he’s really like that.

Luckily the rest of the band is cool. Jackson’s pretty awesome, and Donovan and Maggie are fun (she’s the guitar tech, and she handles my gear too). Maggie played classical piano for sixteen years, then decided to hit the road and do tech work. Funny how life works, isn’t it?

I never thought I’d miss magic, but I do. At least this is giving me plenty of time to think. Not that any of it makes sense yet.

Love you,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 15 November

 

Rory,

I don’t think I’ll make it home for Christmas. We just got booked into this big show down in NYC with about sixteen other bands. Swear to God, this thing is like a summer tour, only it’s in one venue, one stage and we all just GO for twelve hours, one right after the other. 

For New Years we’re playing the big thing in LA. Probably we’ll be on TV, not that you’ll see me since they’ll be focusing in on Trick. And did I mention Natasha? Yeah, now he’s got his girlfriend coming up on stage with him to do that Taylor Swift part in the duet song. She doesn’t sound a _thing_ like Taylor Swift. Maybe if Taylor got a cold and started cracking all the high notes. Yeah, it’s pretty hideous.

I’d say I don’t know what he sees in her, but the walls in the bus are pretty thin, so it’s obvious to all of us what’s going on there.

I am so, so sick of that bus.

Maggie sucked off Jackson the other night. She’s like… ten years older than him, which really doesn’t make a difference considering she’s hot as hell. But the thing is, they were in _his_ bunk. So yes, a foot or two over my head and there they are going at it, and I’m not getting anything because I’m just the bassist and really, I don’t have groupies here. I keep somehow figuring maybe some of our own fans might notice me, but… no.

It’s weird, Rory. I’m lonely. I’m not sure that’s ever happened before. This _might_ be the longest amount of time I’ve gone with only a hand for company since I was fifteen.

TMI. Yeah. I know. But at least I’m not tweeting it, right?

I keep thinking about Esoteric Arts. It sounds like a cool major, right? Except I left virginity behind a long time ago, and I really don’t like abstinence even if it’s to build up energy. Still, I think I’m going to sign up to take the intro course next fall and see if it’s even viable.

Being away from all magic makes me think about it more. That doesn’t really happen when I’m on tour with our band, because I’ve got you, and half the time Dad’s somewhere around too, which means Mom and Dad are along for the ride, and really, is it all that weird that music is such a family affair in our house?

Music isn’t magical, but for me, music and magic are intertwined. It’s such a part of our _life_.

But now, it’s just music, and I feel cut off from things. These guys, most of them are doing exactly what their parents _don’t_ want them to do. They don’t have any support, they didn’t learn from their Dad, they don’t have their Dad watching their business sense, or their Mom offering suggestions for merch.

Earlier today Donovan was asking who I learned to play from, because something I was doing reminded him of old school pop punk. So I said Dad, and he was all _really?_ and I said, _well yeah, he’s my DAD_.

And he blinked a few times. So I told him about you and Dad and Dad and Mom and I could see when he suddenly figured out exactly who I am (and how many Thornes are there out there anyway?) and he was shocked that we’re brothers.

Apparently last names confuse everyone. Whatever.

Still missing you. I think we have dates coming up in Massachusetts and Connecticut in January. You’d better be there.

Love,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 04 December

 

Rory,

Landmark day: I refused sex.

Not even joking.

I got backstage to the afterparty and there were these twins waiting with the rest of the crowd with backstage passes. Didn’t think much of it at first. Didn’t even realize they were twins, although when I looked at them I figured they had to be siblings. Same nose, same eyes, same mouth. Pretty hot, too.

But they came to find me later, and they wanted my autograph because they’re fans of the band. _Our_ band. You probably saw my shout out tweet to you guys earlier, and yeah, that’s why.

The thing is, they both started coming on to me. Which—like I said, they’re hot—wasn’t so bad in itself. Except, they wanted to get it on _together_. Like, twins, in the same bed, with me.

I was weirded out. I mean, who wants to have sex with their own sibling?

And she just looked confused and tried to insist that you and I do it all the time.

Who even _thinks_ that?

I couldn’t decide if I ought to be thrilled that they actually knew we were brothers, or horrified that they thought we sleep together. 

Have sex together. We do sleep in the same bed often enough, but there is absolutely nothing sexual going on.

Not that I’m going to try to explain that to anyone. People seem incapable of understanding.

So anyway, there you go. I refused sex.

And I miss home, and I even wish I were stuck taking finals now because I’d be on my way home afterwards if I was. Not that I want to be in classes, either. How’s school going for you? You’ll be at Veritas soon enough, and things’ll be better.

Love you,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 01 January

 

Rory,

Happy New Year! Of course, you’ve already got email from me (sorry about the whole drunk thing, I’m feeling better now). Kiss Mom and Dad and Dad for me, okay? And are you seeing any of the cousins again? I got all the care packages and yes, I’m dressed warmly. Although LA is pretty warm right now, compared to home. I heard it’s snowing.

Strangely, I miss the snow. I don’t like being on the west coast during the winter. This is my first winter tour and it feels damned strange.

So. I did something I probably shouldn’t have tonight.

I hooked up with Donovan.

But he was drunk, and I was drunk, and I was pretty high from being on stage (nothing else, don’t worry, still just as straight edge as I ever have been where drugs are concerned).

It’s probably going to be awkward tomorrow, isn’t it?

On the other hand, I’m feeling more centered than I have been in ages. I’m sitting here, wide awake, and all I can think about is home and school. I thought being immersed in music—even if it’s not _our_ music—was just going to make me want music more. But I miss the magic, too.

I’m definitely going to sign up for an Esoteric Arts class next fall. Sex is a good thing. A positive thing. And there’s a magic in it, even if you’re not working it. I know I knew that already, but it’s just become more evident. But it’s also not the only way of connecting with a person’s magic, I think. And I don’t think it’s the best way for my magic to come out.

But I like how settled I feel right now. It almost makes me wonder if Donovan has some link to our world, but isn’t that trouble if they get that old without ever getting properly trained?

It hurts my head to think about sometimes.

I’m still rolling around ideas for an actual major right now. I want it to be something to do with music, because that’s magic to me. Any thoughts on your end?

We’ll be there in two weeks, Rory. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. Think anyone might bring me cookies? I want cookies.

I also want to play with Dad and just spend some time with Dad. I need my family so much right now. I feel so incredibly disconnected.

This tour ends in May. Is it bad that I’m almost counting down the days?

Love,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 13 January

 

Rory,

You have no idea how good that was.

Well, you probably do.

But seriously, to get offstage and there are all these _people_ but it doesn’t matter because there are you and Dad towering over everyone else, and Mom bouncing and Dad grinning and _gods_ it just… I needed that so much. You can’t imagine how much shit I took when I got back in the bus tonight because I didn’t come party and I went out with my folks instead. These guys just don’t get what family means to me.

It means everything to me.

Donovan said to tell you to tell Dad that it was an honor to get to meet him. And that he hadn’t expected Dad to be so quiet. I don’t know if that’s because he knows me, or because he’s just seen him on stage and thinks that’s what he’s like all the time. Either way, Donovan couldn’t stop talking about it after.

It’s strange seeing how someone looks up to our dad, isn’t it? I think I stopped seeing rock gods as gods a long time ago. Probably because some of them knew me in diapers.

Speaking of Donovan… it wasn’t weird at all after. We’ve hooked up a couple of times, but it’s not any kind of a thing. I made it clear that I don’t _do_ things. And he made it just as clear that that’s not what he’s looking for, and he’s not gay (I tried to explain to him that I honestly don’t give a shit about his sexuality or whether he wants to tell anyone else, but there you go with the difference between the mundane world and ours, right?). Anyway, it’s all good, which is a relief.

I’ll see you again in Worcester tomorrow night, and Mom said she might come out to that place in western Mass but you can’t because it’s a school night and you’ve already had two late nights. You’ll get this letter after all that anyway.

The tour’s about half over, Rory. Start thinking about the summer tours. We’ll need to get those set up soon!

Love,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 27 March

 

Rory,

I’m tired of being on the road. I’m tired of this bunk. I’m _really_ tired of Trick and the way he pounds Natasha so hard the whole bus shakes. I’m tired of Donovan wanking loud enough to hear it. I’m tired of the way Jackson snores. I’m tired of not having anyone else to talk to about anything. I’m just… tired of living in a tin can and there’s no way to get away from each other.

I don’t remember it being like this on our tours, but maybe that’s because it’s summer when we go, and sometimes we camp out or sleep on the beach. Or maybe it’s because it’s just us, and there isn’t a tour manager and a bunch of techs and roadies to get the gear. It’s like Switchblade’s part of a city on wheels sometimes, and there’s just nowhere to go.

Tonight I got homesick enough that when we stopped the bus, I asked if I could go inside the venue. Susan (that’s the tour manager) said sure, but don’t turn on any lights. So I sat there, in the dark with my laptop, and I emailed you (which you probably got) and I emailed all the guys, and I replied to Dad’s email about summer.

Then I did something really stupid.

I started looking for pictures of us online.

And looking for pictures led to articles, and to these… photo manipulations that fans did.

Rory, they _really_ don’t get that we’re brothers.

They really _really_ don’t.

I found some stories out there, and some of them were pretty cool. Like this one where we were wizards at Hogwarts which had me laughing because all I could think was that that writer had no idea how close to the truth she was. There was another one where all of us were on a spaceship, like Firefly. My favorite had us back in time, in some kind of period piece, and we were highwaymen. I liked that one, although I have to think the writer was doing this thing where she put herself in it, because the heroine fell in love with me, then in love with you, then in love with each of the guys, then we fought over her… you get the idea. It was funny.

But those were all just stories.

The ones that got weird had you and me doing things that I need to scrub my mind to get rid of. Ew. I love you, but not like that.

I am never vanity surfing anywhere that has fic or photo manipulations again.

(Feel free to remind me of that when I start doing exactly that by accident again this summer, ok?)

Love you,

Thorne

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 01 April

 

Rory,

Dad sent me the schedule! You’ve got it, right? I’ll be getting home about four weeks before we have to hit the road, so we’ll need to cram in some practice time. We leave as soon as your last class is over, heading straight up to Kennebunkport. We’re starting off with an East Coast crawl, north to south, then winding through the middle. It’s going to be a great summer.

I put in for my classes for the fall. And I declared a major.

I’m going to go for Applied Enchantments. No, I don’t know what my thesis will be, but I’ve got some ideas. Maybe I’ll figure it out this summer, maybe I’ll let it simmer for another year. I don’t really have to know until my senior year, right? I did sign up for the introductory course in Esoteric Arts (and had to fill things in explaining my current status). I think it’s really going to be a good year.

I’m looking more forward to the tour than school, which both isn’t a surprise and is.

But I’m looking forward to school, too. I might buy my books early (STOP LAUGHING).

Then again, probably not. Where would I even put them in the van?

I’ve been working on those songs you sent me, so you don’t have to worry, I’ll be able to drop right into the new material. Did you get the clips I sent back? That one piece is brilliant. It sounds like a new single to me.

You’ve got an amazing way with words, Rory.

We’ll be playing together again soon.

Love,

Thorne

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 17 May

 

Rory,

Tomorrow we arrive in Denver. It’s a day of interviews and small free shows, then our first big show. We get to sleep in the next day, and do a second show that night.

And when that show’s done, I’m going to the airport, getting on a plane, and coming home. It’s a red eye flight, so on the morning of the 20th I’ll be getting into Logan. I don’t know if I’ll get there before the letter or not!

Either way, I’m coming home. I’ll see you soon.

Love you,

Thorne

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

. 23 June

 

Rory,

You’re snoring.

You also don’t fit in your bunk. There’s this foot hanging down and I keep thinking I could tickle it, but would I do that to my little brother?

Okay, so maybe I would. But not tonight.

Still.

It’s funny, but I’ve gotten so used to writing you letters that even when we were just together all day, the first thing I thought about when we got rolling is _I need to write to Rory_.

So here I go, even though you already know everything I’m going to say.

I’m glad we’ve only got the bus for the first few stops. I’m tired of being in a bus. Yes, it’s nice to sleep while we roll, but at the same time, I miss the van and being squished into those seats and ending up with our heads knocking together while we get cricks in our necks.

The bus is impersonal. The van is our band. It’s us, and it’s our friends, and it feels like our life.

I’ve tried the whole megastar rock band thing on for size and y’know what? I didn’t like it. Not like that.

I like my Twitter and my Facebook and knowing that our fans know I’m honest and I’ll talk back to them. Can you imagine me hiring an assistant? I’d be stealing my phone back from her all the time.

You’d probably think the quality of my tweets would improve. Maybe that part would be true.

Still. I’m good with this. With us. With being on the road this summer for the festivals and doing our thing. And going back to Veritas in the fall (and in another year you’ll be in my house, you know you will—how could it be anything else?). And we’ve got the road for now.

You and me, together again.

I missed you, Rory.

Love,

Thorne


End file.
